


The Colours of a Hero

by FrostedPurples



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Crossover, Eventual sexy times, F/M, I guess I'm doing a thing now wooo, M/M, Romance, Torture, Trauma, Will add additional tags as I go, hope this goes well, link and harry needs to be a more popular pairing, love conquers all i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:21:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23605969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostedPurples/pseuds/FrostedPurples
Summary: Four years after the Battle of Hogwarts, and recovering from a failed relationship, Harry is longing for nothing but peace and quiet. But when Link wakes up in the wizarding world, panicked, and confused, Harry realizes his quest is far from over. A new terror looms: the Malice, threatening to tear apart both worlds at the seams. Harry and Link are forced to join forces, magic and strength together against an unwielding foe. Might there still be room for love, in a world that can’t seem to stop doling out pain and cruelty?Note: This is a Harry Potter and Breath of the Wild crossover. Basically, Ganon is being a jerk, and Harry and Link need to stop him with the power of love (and other skills, too, I guess). Slow burn.
Relationships: Cormac McLaggen/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Link (Legend of Zelda)/Harry Potter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 48





	1. Green Eyes, Blue Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for joining me on this wild ride through romance and bloodshed! Any feedback would be greatly appreciated, as I'm pretty new to this whole writing thing.  
> Bless the most underrated pairing to ever exist: Harry and Link. Let's DO THIS!

Link stood alone in the Yiga Hideout, completely still against the wall. The soft footsteps of the Yiga Clan members were the only indicator of when he could risk moving. He would rather be anywhere else right now than the hideout of the people that wanted him dead. Hell, he thought. They were sending members across all of Hyrule looking for him, yet here he was sneaking around in their base. But it was his duty. The thunderhelm was here, and without it, he stood no chance against the divine beast.

Listening closely, he heard the footsteps move away. This was his chance. Heart beating quickly, he peered his head around the corner, being rewarded with a clear line of sight. He snuck forward, hugging the walls as he moved around the corner. Judging by the footsteps, the guard was headed clockwise around the pillar. Finally, after a few tense minutes of straining to hear footsteps, and sneaking along the wall, he saw the open doorway. 

Abandoning discretion, he bolted, spinning around the corner only to come face to face with a burly guard, garbed in a mask with a cruel red eye. To his horror, he watched in slow motion as the guard lifted a whistle to his mouth, piercing the quiet with a shrieking alarm call.

***

Harry woke with a start, a hand clapping to his scar, a familiar pain like fire in his head. Holding back a groan, he realized he was covered in sweat, and his blankets were strewn across the floor. A burst of terror shot through him like adrenaline. His scar. His scar hasn’t hurt like this for years. Not since the war. 

He pulled himself off the couch, legs shaking. Another blast of pain shot through his scar, and he collapsed back onto the couch. He banged his palm against his forehead, willing it to go away. He could hardly think straight with his head like this. 

He finally let out a groan. Maybe some tea would help clear his mind. Gingerly, he made his way to the kitchen, careful to avoid the creaks in the hallway. Hermione was a slight sleeper, and the last thing he wanted to do was wake her up when he was already infringing on her hospitality so much. And he didn't know how he would explain being up so late. 

He made his tea scorching hot, hoping the burning in his mouth would distract him from the pain in his head. But yet, sipping his tea, Harry couldn’t get his mind off of the scar. The pain had dulled a bit, but it was still there. He caught sight of his reflection in the mirror behind the table. His hair was ragged, green eyes looking exhausted and scared. His scar burned red on his forehead, a sight he didn't anticipate having to see again. What could it mean? Voldemort was dead. It’s been years since the Battle of Hogwarts. His scar had been silent since that day… the day it all ended. He shook his head. He hated thinking about the war. Hogwarts won, but sometimes it didn’t feel like a victory. So much life was lost for his sake. So much unnecessary hurt. Mad-eye, Fred, Dumbledore, Sirius. He gripped the teacup tight. Too tight. 

A light flicked on in the kitchen. He released the teacup with a start. Hermione. Of course, she had heard him thrashing around earlier. She doesn’t miss a thing. 

“Harry?” Her voice echoed loud in the quiet. 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She was in her dressing gown, hair frizzy, and concern etched on all her features. Despite that though, was a determination to fix whatever might be wrong. She was a good friend. 

Hermione had grown a lot since the war. It had been the turning point she needed, and she had used the momentum of the new age to propel herself into blinding success. In only four short years, she had become one of the youngest professors ever to be hired at Hogwarts. She was the new transfiguration professor, being invited to take the position after McGonagall became headmistress. She had written three books already on the subject, all featuring new and bold spells, earning the respect and awe of the wizarding community. It was a path befitting of a hero, and she does all of Hogwarts proud by making herself such an icon after the horror of Voldemort’s reign. 

“Harry, what happened? Another nightmare? I thought you said they had gone away?”

“Not a nightmare.”

“Then?”

“Scar,” he mumbled. 

“Your scar hasn’t hurt since the war.”

“Believe me, I know,” Harry sighed. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

Hermione looked worried, chewing her bottom lip in thought. “Maybe it’s just a phantom pain. Like how painful injuries can spontaneously start to ache after healing."

“Maybe.”

“Well, regardless, we should be on guard. This isn’t good news at all, Harry. Did you see anything?”

“No vision. Not much to work with.”

She sat down across from him, stealing a sip from his tea. She shot a concerned look his way. 

“We should tell Ron.”

Harry laughed. “I’d rather not. He’ll only worry.”

“Harry,” she scolded. “He would want to know.”

When Harry didn’t respond, she continued. “How about a trip to Diagon Ally tomorrow? We’ll stop by Wizard Wheeze’s to visit Ron and George. We can fill him in, then. I need to go, anyways, to Flourish and Blotts for some paperwork on the new book. I want it to be in print before school starts up in September.”

“I don’t really want to see Ron right now.”

Hermione sighed. “Is this about that fight? He’s not mad at you, Harry. And if he is, it’s just a passing thing. He’s shocked, that’s all. You two have been through too much together to let a little spat-“

“It’s not a ‘little spat,’ Hermione. And yes, he’s mad at me.” Harry looked down and saw his knuckles were white. The scars on his hand stood out vividly. He had a sudden urge to throw the teacup against the wall. 

"This is more important. He needs to know. This isn't an argument I want to have with you right now."

"Then you tell him. I'm not going." With a snap, the fragile handle of the teacup broke off. 

“Harry, that’s enough.”

A blinding light filled the room, and he felt his eyes grow heavy. 

“That will help you sleep. Go rest, and we’ll talk more in the morning.”

“’Mione,” he protested. "You can't do that."

“Too late. You need rest. We’re accomplishing nothing with this conversation. Don't worry, we'll figure out what's going on with your scar, I promise.”

She led him back to the couch, tucking the blankets in around him. Almost immediately, he felt his eyes closing. 

His night was filled with blue and orange light. He heard the roar of a faraway beast, black and red, circling a crumbling castle. He smelled the soothing aroma of vegetables being cooked over a fire. He felt a rush of air around his body as he spun upwards in the wind. And he saw images of a face he didn’t recognize. Soft white skin, intense blue eyes, and a singular determined gaze. The face caught his gaze every now and then, curious, green eyes meeting blue eyes in the dark of the night.


	2. Smoking Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welcome, to chapter 2! In which our heroes finally meet! Well, kinda. Almost.   
> No spoilers. Also, saying sorry is usually the right thing to do :)  
> Stay kind out there, kiddos.

While Ron and Hermione had taken their new lives after the war in stride, it had always been hard for Harry to follow suit. There were too many memories in every spell, too many regrets in every action. He had been offered a position as Auror after the Ministry finally reassembled itself, but he didn’t feel ready to take it. The public expected it, he knew. Kingsley in particular had always been pushing for Harry to take his place among the Aurors. Maybe one day he would accept the destiny chosen for him. But for now, he was exhausted. 

The battle had been too much. He had died in that battle, in more ways than one. The thought of willingly putting his friends through more danger made him sick, and he knew the less attention drawn to him, the better. Voldemort may be dead, but that didn’t mean all his allies were gone. And hell, that certainly didn’t mean all evil wizards were gone. How long would it be before a new Voldemort rose? First Grindelwald, then Voldemort. It was only a matter of time before a new dark foe rose to power, before the pattern continued. Harry wasn’t ready to be the hero again. He didn’t even feel capable of it. He longed for rest. He longed for peace. A game of Quidditch by the lake, or chess after good round of laughs. He was happy to leave the new world heroics to Hermione. And Ron, for that matter, but Harry couldn’t bring himself to think about Ron right now.

Perhaps it was another indicator of Hermione’s success after the war that led Harry to find himself in Diagon Ally the next morning. Despite his protests over breakfast, she was set on her decision that they would both go visit Ron. In a funny way, that was one thing that hadn’t changed over time. When Hermione had her mind set on something, it would happen, come hell or high water. 

“Let’s do the bookstore first,” Harry said, as they appeared in Diagon Ally, breathless from the apparition. The sun was already hot in the sky, a remnant of an ending summer. Stores were open and bustling with students preparing for the upcoming school year. He squinted in the sun, taking in the busy scene. Gringotts shone like a beacon in the distance, and he fought down a shudder at the sight, visions of scorching treasure filling his mind. And, of course, with the crowds, came the stares. He couldn’t escape them in the wizarding world. If anything, the triumph over Voldemort had only made the stares worse. 

“Yeah, sure,” Hermione replied, tugging him into Flourish and Blotts.

The bookstore was absolutely packed, a line of first years queued in front of a tower of textbooks, and upper year students scrambled to get copies of popular Quidditch books. Harry picked out familiar titles like History of Magic, and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them in the pyramid. The centre of the store was occupied by what appeared to be a steaming bath of submerged books. 

“Wha-?” Harry started.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “They’re for Trelawney. Lord knows I haven’t a clue why the lady needs her textbooks to be sopping wet, but there you have it.”

“I see you still haven’t gotten over Divination class.”

“It’s not my fault it’s a useless field of magic.”

“I mean, not that I enjoyed that class or anything, but she did make the mildly important prophecy that me and Voldemort would fight. She was right about that, you know.”

“Being right once does not qualify you as a professor. I haven’t forgotten those dream diaries you and Ron had to do.”

"I was kind of fun at times. Really pushed me, creatively."

“Why, Professor Granger.” A man in faded green robes waved at Hermione from across the aisle. 

“Oh! Erwin.You found me quickly. I’ve only been in here a moment. Harry, do you mind giving us a few minutes?”

Erwin glanced at his scar a moment, before giving him a friendly nod, and pulling Hermione behind the counter. At least a glance is better than a stare. 

Harry wandered into the back of the store. It was less busy, tucked away from curious eyes. He’d never gotten used to all the attention. From the moment he walked into the Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid that first year, it had always been horribly uncomfortable. The faces of strangers he’d never met, eager with recognition. He perused the books, flipping through a few random titles. He seemed to be in the home and lifestyle section.

A title caught his eye: Charm your own Cheese, by Gerda Catchlove. He stifled a laugh. He was sure he’d seen this title laying around before. Perhaps at the Weasley’s? He flipped it open to pictures of various food items whizzing around an immaculate kitchen. Recipes and spells accompanied the pictures. A different smell filled the air with every page he turned. Turkey, baked potato, vegetable stew. He flipped to the desserts, and was surprised to see what looked like a miniature, shiny broomstick flying across the page, chasing a much larger, and much shiner, quaffle. Quaffle Candies, read the text. It looked good. Smelled good, too, like candied fruits.

He put the book under his arm. Hermione might appreciate some help around the kitchen. Not to mention the Quidditch themed candies looked amazing. He had been meaning to learn how to cook, anyways. Now that he and Ginny weren’t living together, it was certainly time he learned to take care of himself. And maybe a quiet hobby was just what he needed.

“What’s that?”

“That was fast,” Harry said, turning to see Hermione behind him, tucking some sealed envelopes into her beaded bag. 

“Oh, it was pretty straightforward. We were just working out the details on a future book signing. Apparently, they were already set with publishing before the school term.”

“Book signing?” Harry’s mind filled with images of Lockhart, beaming at a frantic crowd of middle-aged women. 

“Just something small. Flourish and Blotts has been kind to me. I couldn’t say no.”

“Maybe I’ll be lucky enough to get a copy. Hopefully the Daily Prophet shows up, and I can get a picture with the famous Hermione Granger.”

She whacked him with the bag. 

“Hey!”

“The Prophet better not show up, if they know what’s good for them. I think Skeeter has them all scared to go near me.” She snickered. “So, you buying a book?”

He flashed the book cover her direction. “Was wanting to get into cooking a bit.”

Hermione beamed. “That’s a great idea! I know the book. There’s a wonderful French onion soup recipe in there. It sings to you. Maybe we could try out a recipe tonight?”

“Sure. Fair warning though, I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I know. That’s what I’m here for.”

He paid for the book, Hermione tucking it into her beaded bag, and they walked back out into the ally. With the bookstore out of the way, she started towards Weasley Wizard Wheezes. Harry made a noise of protest, but she only responded by gripped his hand, and pulling him along. 

“Make sure you apologize to him,” Hermione said as they walked. 

“But-“

“Seriously, Harry. I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but you still hurt him, you know?”

“I thought we were coming here to talk about the scar. What happened to that?”

“Two birds with one stone. I’m tired of you not addressing the issue. I know you care about Ron. So act like it.”

As they approached the store, a huge plume of pink smoke blasted out of the front door, followed immediately by Ron, covered head to toe in what looked like pink slime. He was cursing madly, trying fruitlessly to scrape it off his skin. His technique left something to be missed, consisting of flailing limbs and loud insults, clearly directed at George. 

Harry and Hermione burst into laughter. “Erm… Ron?” Hermione tried.

“Hm?” Ron turned his head their way, rubbing the slime out of his eyes. “’Mione?”

“Hi, Ron. It’s wonderful to see you! Well, some of you, at least. Scourgify.” 

The slime vanished, leaving his skin just a little pinker than usual. He let out a sigh of relief, giving her a quick hug. 

“Oh, thank god you showed up,” he said. “George thought it would be funny to demonstrate a slime bomb on me. All the little brats inside are buying it like crazy now. Jerks. It isn’t funny. Oh!” he noticed Harry, standing a few paces back. “Harry.”

“Hi, Ron.”

They stood in silence for a moment. The awkwardness was tangible in the air. 

Hermione frowned. “What exactly is a slime bomb?”

Ron laughed nervously. “Oh, it was my idea. Of course, George would thank me for the idea by tossing one at me in front of customers. Bloody hell.”

“So it’s quite literally a slime bomb?”

“Yep. You just throw it and it explodes on impact, covering everything in slime. Brilliant, right?”

“Well, it was pretty funny.”

“When it happens to other people it’s funny,” he complained. “Thanks for bailing me out with scourgify, by the way. I was just about ready to go inside and strangle the bastard.”

She laughed. “Glad to have prevented an impromptu fratricide. Hey Ron, can we pull you away from work for a few? We were hoping to all catch up. It’s been a while.”

Ron looked at Harry blankly for a moment, before turning to smile at Hermione. “Of course. George owes me big time, so I feel no guilt at all leaving him alone with 50 kids eager to slime their profs.”

Hermione looked startled. “They wouldn’t actually use them on teachers, would they?”

“I’m kidding, Hermione. Here, let’s go out back. It’s private.”

They made their way behind the store, where a few chairs were stood around a metal outdoor table. Gobstopper pieces were littered across the table and grass, a few butterbeer glasses lined up along the wall. The busy sounds of the ally were masked from back hear, leading to some welcome quiet. They all took a seat, Hermione clearing the gobstopper pieces from her side of the table, stacking them in the discarded box on the ground. 

“It’s always such a mess back here, Ron. You’ll lose the pieces if you leave them out like that.”

“Firewhiskey?” Ron asked, producing a little bottle from his robes. 

“Ron!” Hermione scolded. “It’s not even noon.”

“Harry? Firewhiskey?”

“Yeah, I’ll have some,” Harry said. Ron winked, and poured them both a shot. 

“Cheers,” Ron said, as they downed their drinks. Ron made a face at the taste, putting the bottle down on the table. 

“Really, you two? Ron, you have to go back to work soon. And Harry, that’s very irresponsible.”

Ron and Harry shared a look. Ron eyerolled, Harry having to stifle a laugh. The moment was nice, familiar, relieving some of the awkwardness in the air. Well, better now than ever to address the elephant in the room.

“Hey, Ron, about Ginny-“

“Oh, jumping right into it, huh? I thought that might be why you came. I hope Hermione didn’t have to drag you out here to come talk to me.”

“Erm. Well, actually, we’re here for-“ Harry started backtracking. Hermione gave him a glare, and he cut off with a sigh. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry, that’s all.” Hermione gave a thumbs up. 

Ron took a long look at him. “It’s okay, mate,” he said, pouring another drink. He drank it right away, turning to face Harry directly. “I said some mean things that night.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I appreciate the apology. It’s not really about you, though. I get it. You and Ginny didn’t work out. That’s no reason for me to be an ass about it.”

“I should have trusted you. But instead, I kept it quiet, and waited for Ginny to tell you everything. God, what a mess.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me. Really, though, let’s just let this go. It didn’t work out. Whatever. I’m sick of being mad at you. You’re still my friend. Ginny’s still my sister. I was an ass. And so were you. Simple as that.”

“I told you he wasn’t mad,” Hermione said smugly, snatching the bottle away from Ron as he reached for another shot. 

Ron laughed. “Yeah, I wasn’t mad, Hermione. I was furious.”

“Look, I really am sorry,” Harry said. “And not just to you. To Ginny, too. I never meant to hurt her. You have every right to be pissed.”

“Look, just drop it. I don’t really want to think about it anymore. Ginny will be fine. Honestly, it’s probably for the best. She’ll find a nice lad somewhere.”

“Yeah,” Hermione chimed in. “We all knew it wasn’t working out. It’s just that you realized before she did. What you need is some time to work on yourself, Harry. Read a book, figure out your career, learn to enjoy life on your own. Only then will you be ready to be with someone again. I believe you can turn this into a good thing. Both of you.”

“Alright, alright,” Ron said. “Let’s not spend all of this limited time together with Harry’s relationship advice, please.”

“Thank you both, though, really,” Harry said. 

“Of course, mate. I’m sure you’ll do the same, when you have to listen to my relationship woes later. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Hermione glared at him. “Ron.”

“Kidding, kidding,” he said, shutting up quickly at the venom on her face. “I shall not talk about my relationship woes with Harry. Unless you are supervising to ensure I don’t stray from the true story.”

“Right. Well, now that you two are back on proper terms again, you should know, Ron. Harry’s scar has been hurting again.”

“What?” Ron said, knee bumping the table hard. He winced, cursing. “Shit, is it death eaters or something?”

“No idea,” Harry said. 

“Maybe it’s just a one-time thing?” 

“Well… err. It’s actually still hurting. So no, not a one-time thing.”

Hermione frowned. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“I didn’t want to worry you. But it’s probably important. Also, I had a dream last night. I don’t remember much. There was a person I didn’t recognize. And some other weird stuff in the background.”

“What did the person look like?”

“He had really blue eyes. Blonde hair.”

“Malfoy?” Ron joked. 

“Nah,” Harry said. “He looked much kinder. And determined. Like he was on his way to go save the world, or some shit like that.”

“Hm,” Hermione said. “Maybe I should send Kingsley a letter. He may have some insight on all this.”

"Kingsley?" Ron laughed.

“No need to bring Kingsley into this," Harry said. "He’ll just bug me about the Auror job again. Besides, maybe -“

Harry cried out as his scar fired up again. It was worse than before, so much worse. The pain was unbearable, like his skull was splitting open. He vaguely saw Hermione and Ron rise from their chairs, heard their voices call his name, but his vision quickly turned to black. 

A roar sounded from the distance. From the darkness arose that same face, those same intense blue eyes as before. Only this time, something was different. The mysterious person was terrified, arms moving in all directions, flying wildly through open space. Darkness licked at the edges of his skin like fire, leaving black marks at contact. The darkness seemed endless, spiraling in all directions. Yet somehow, miraculously, he burst into the light, high above a grassy meadow dotted with yellow flowers. He was far too high up. The fall would kill him, Harry was sure. Yet the panic on his face only turned to focus as he took in the new sight. He reached behind him, pulling out a long stretch of fabric that was clipped onto his pack. Metal hinges clicked open, and suddenly, he was flying, catching himself in the wind on what looked like a hang glider. He looked like a bird, effortlessly riding the wind to a light landing in the meadow. As he reached the ground, he clicked the hang glider shut, and took a deep breath, taking in his surroundings. At his first step, he collapsed, face pale and lifeless. 

“Harry!” Someone was shaking him. “Harry!”

Harry’s eyes snapped open to see Ron and Hermione hunched over him. He was curled up, hand on his scar, sweat dripping from his face. Hermione was shaking him. As soon as his eyes opened, her own welled with tears. 

“Are you okay? What happened? Harry?”

He stood up instantly, shaking her off. “He’s in trouble.”

He focused his mind on that meadow, the yellow flowers, and those bright blue eyes. In his heart, he had a welling confidence that though he had never been to that meadow, he would be able to find his way there. Taking a deep breath, he disapparated into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, who could this mysterious person be? Link, perchance?  
> ...  
> Yeah.   
> Yeah, it's Link.


	3. Another Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yayyyy, finally our fellas get to meet.   
> Mostly a buildup chapter, but rest assured, the drama, romance, and bloodshed shall commence shortly.

Harry opened his eyes to bright green and yellow spilling across the landscape. The meadow. He spun around, and quickly found what he was looking for. The mysterious person, collapsed on the ground, blonde hair tangled over his face. He was groaning slightly, and Harry felt a wave of relief that he was at least alive. 

Approaching, Harry saw just how hurt he was. The dark, damaged patches had spread across most of his arms and were starting to creep up his neck. He was wearing what looked like leather armour, arrows scattered around his body, fallen from his quiver. 

Harry picked him up easily. He was light, though all his gear seemed to weigh him down a bit. He noticed a sword strapped against his side, and some kind of device on his hip, glowing in those same orange and blue colours from his dream. Who was this man? 

Now wasn’t the time for questions, though. Harry adjusted his grip to avoid crushing the hard equipment against his body, and apparated back to Diagon ally, where Hermione and Ron were standing in shock.

“Harry, what the bloody hell was –“ Ron cut off as he noticed the person draped in Harry’s arms. 

“Hermione, he needs help,” Harry pleaded. 

Hermione nodded, opened her beaded bag with a snap. “Do you know what caused the dark patches?”

“Some kind of shadow. It moved like fire, but it was pitch black.”

She closed the bag with a frown. “I don’t know how to help him. I’ve never heard of a fire like that. Unless it’s some kind of fiendfire. We should take him to St. Mungo’s. What even happened? You had a vision?”

“No, not St. Mungo's,” Harry said quickly. “I can’t explain it, but I have a bad feeling about that. Trust me.”

“What do you mean you have a bad feeling about that?”

“Please, just trust me. We don’t have a lot of time,” he said, pointing out the spreading dark patches, which had already started working their way onto his face.

“Well, what about Poppy?”

“Madam Pomfrey?”

“She lives just outside of London in the summer. I know where her place is.”

“Grab hold of me. Let’s go,” Harry said, adjusting his grip on the strange person again. Hermione grabbed his shoulder, and Ron held her other hand. 

In a moment, they appeared in front of a clean looking home with red brick walkways, and a matching red painted door. The area was quiet, separated from neighbouring houses by a large yard and high fences. Harry wasted no time, banging loudly on the door. 

It opened in an instant, to Madam Pomfrey standing surprised in the doorframe. She instinctively pulled the man from Harry’s grasp, gasping at the spreading shadows edging across his face. 

“Poppy,” Hermione said. “Please, we need your help. It’s urgent.”

“Hermione! Mr. Potter. Please, come in. I see Mr. Weasley is with you as well. Explain. Quickly.”

“Harry found this man collapsed and unconscious. He was attacked by a black fire.” 

A strange look crossed her face, as she studied the shadowy marks, tugging his shirt off to see his whole chest now charcoal black. “A black fire, you say?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “It looked to be a shadow, but moved like fire.”

Madam Pomfrey paused a moment. “I can help him."

She laid him on the couch. With a wave of her wand, a couple of potions flew into the room. One was bright yellow, and the other was like bottled light, gleaming inside the glass vial. She leaned his head back, and poured both potions down his throat, before pacing around him, muttering some incantations under her breath. The trio stood quietly, and watched, seeing the shadowy patches immediately start to dissolve, leaving unmarred pale skin in their wake. The man made a hum of approval, eyes fluttering.

"That was brilliant, Madame Pomfrey," Ron said, looking at awe at the now unblemished skin. 

"Will he be okay?" Harry asked. 

“He will be fine. Now, please, join me in the kitchen. We’ll leave him to rest. He will wake soon, and we have much to discuss.”

“Thank you so much."

“I’m happy to have been able to help. But I have many questions. I admit to being a little thrown off by those marks. That shadow fire you mention is not something found in this world, Mr. Potter.”

Hermione tilted her head. “Not from this world? You mean that literally? I’ve read about the multi-worlds theory of magic, but I didn’t realize it was true.”

“It is from the space between worlds. It is an inhospitable place, meant only as a passageway. He is lucky to be alive. Though they are easy wounds to tend, without the proper potions on hand, he would have quickly been consumed by the shadows.”

“Hang on a minute,” Ron interjected. “You mean to tell me this guy got hurt while travelling between worlds? So he’s not from here?”

“Did you see his ears, Ron?” Hermione said. “They were pointed, like an elf. Though he of course looks nothing like a house elf. No magical race I know of shares his features.”

Madame Pomfrey nodded. “There are many worlds he could have come from. But I have a good guess he came from the Kingdom of Hyrule. The sheikah slate he carries is evidence of that.”

“Sheikah slate?” asked Hermione. It was odd to see her so unknowledgeable on a subject. As if to echo that thought, she burst out “And how do you know so much about all of this? I've read countless books on ancient runes, yet the symbols on that slate are completely unfamiliar.”

“The sheikah slate is an ancient technology. In the world he comes from, personal magic is far rarer a phenomenon. In Hyrule, they instead use magical technology, like that sheikah slate.” Her face turned deadly serious. “Now, before I share anything else, I must implore you three to keep him a complete secret. I mean that, for all of our sakes. If certain characters in the Ministry were to hear that a Hylian was here, there could be dire consequences. You were right to bring him to me.”

Hermione shot a look at Harry. “Harry mentioned that he had a bad feeling about bringing him to St. Mungo’s.”

“It was just a hunch,” Harry said. 

“Good boy,” Madam Pomfrey said, smiling at Harry. “You should listen to your intuition. Now, let me fill you in a little. Before I became the nurse at Hogwarts, Albus and I used to be collaborators on a certain project."

"What?" Harry interrupted.

"Let me finish, please. Albus was infatuated with the multi world theory of magic, and, to be frank, so was I. I was the reason the project occurred at all, actually. My grandfather had a piece of literature, a journal, that had been passed down many generations in the family. It was a field guide of sorts, to alternate worlds. One of my great ancestors had long ago figured out how to travel between worlds, and documented all his findings in his journal. Albus and I were trying to figure out how to travel between worlds, as my ancestor did.”

Harry was shocked. “You’re telling me Dumbledore was trying to travel between worlds?” All those years together, and he had never mentioned alternate worlds to Harry. Not once. 

“Does that surprise you, really? Albus had a lot of secrets, a lot of dreams. This was one that we happened to share. Unfortunately, nothing came out of it. Neither of us could figure out how to make it through the space between worlds. It was our biggest roadblock. Albus in particular came close to death many times. It is through brewing up those potions to counter the shadow fire that I found my passion for being a nurse. Albus never really lost sight of the dream, but I moved on. His grand vision was to learn from these other worlds, bring back their knowledge to the fight against evil in our own world. As far as I know, though, Albus never did manage to cross the space.”

“But he did,” Harry said softly, tilting his head towards the living room door, where the mysterious person stood rigid, hand on the hilt of his sword. 

The room went deadly quiet.

“It’s you,” he said, looking directly at Harry. Green eyes met blue, and Harry was suddenly sure that the Hylian was of good intent. It was a burning feeling in his chest, more than a hunch. As if all his intuitions were lighting up at once.

Madame Pomfrey rose her wand. “Who are you? And where are you from? Please, lower the sword. We are not here to hurt you.”

“Link. Hyrule.” He did not lower his sword. 

“It’s good to meet you, Link. My name is Poppy. This is Hermione, Ron, and Harry,” she said, gesturing at each person in turn. “We are from Earth.”

“Harry,” Link echoed, gaze fixated on Harry. “You were the one who saved me, yes?”

“I found you in a meadow. You were pretty hurt. I saw you fall in a vision."

Link nodded, and lowered his sword. 

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked. 

Link looked surprised by the question, and smiled. “I’m well. I appreciate the help, but I do have to head home now. I haven’t heard of Earth before. Do you know which way it is to Hyrule from here?”

“I’m afraid not,” Madame Pomfrey said quietly. “And it would not be advisable to go outside right now. It may be dangerous for you to wander around out there.”

“Danger is fine.”

“You do not know the way. Stay for a bit, until we figure out how to get you home.” There was a strange look in her eyes as she said that, and Harry got the distinct impression she had not yet given up on the dream to see new worlds.

Harry shared a look with Hermione, and they came to the same conclusion. 

“You’re welcome to stay with us for as long as you need,” Hermione said. “Harry and I live close to here.”

Link nodded. “I appreciate it. Please, let me pay for my stay.” He held out a handful of small, brightly coloured gems. 

“Not necessary at all,” Hermione said. “We have the space.”

Link put the gems onto the table, and glanced around the house. “I insist. This place is stunning. That art on the walls is simply lovely.”

“Thank you,” Madame Pomfrey beamed. 

“Okay, why don’t we get Link back to our place?” Hermione said, picking up the gems, studying them curiously. “We’ll visit soon, Poppy.”

“Yes, please do. I suspect we’ll have a lot to talk about.”

“Link, your hand, please,” Hermione said. 

Link looked confused, but complied, allowing her to clasp his hand in hers. Ron grabbed her other hand, and Harry grasped her shoulder.

“Thank you again,” Harry said. 

“Visit soon,” Madame Pomfrey replied, gaze distant 

In a quick moment, they disapparating, reappearing in Hermione’s apartment. Link let out a gasp at the sudden movement. 

“In Hyrule, quick travel abilities are quite rare,” he marveled. “Who are you, Hermione?”

“Oh, that sort of thing is common around here,” she hedged. “All three of us can use magic.”

“Earth truly is a fascinating place,” Link said, gazing out the window at the city street below. “This town is vast. So many machines on the paths.”

Harry looked at him curiously. It seemed that Hyrule was nothing like London, if he didn’t know the word for car. But then again, he was wearing armour and had a sword. Maybe Hyrule was like a medieval version of Earth?

“I’ll go get you some blankets and a pillow. There’s a second couch in the main room you can use.”

He nodded. 

“I’ll help,” Ron said, dashing off behind her.

As soon as they had left, Link turned to Harry. “So it was you I saw in that dream.”

“Yeah,” he replied. “It’s strange to actually see you in person. I’m sorry you’re so far away from home.”

“It is an issue, yes,” Link frowned. “That dream did seem prophetic. Though I thought it might have been due to my state of being. I had recently been captured by the Yiga Clan, and was drifting in and out of strange dreams in my cell.”

“Captured? That’s terrible.”

“I am well now, if not a bit far from my quest. In a confrontation with Master Kohga, I was forced into a strange portal. I see it has led me here. I will have to see how exactly you factor into all this.”

“That same dream, I had saw a huge beast flying over a castle,” Harry said. "Is that from your... home?"

“Ganon. You don’t know the name?”

“We’re pretty far from Hyrule.”

Link took a seat on the couch, a pained expression on his face. He looked exhausted. Harry noticed how he sat back straight and muscles tense despite the tiredness, as if ready to jump up and fight at any moment. Harry knew that feeling. It used to be how he lived, that year leading up to the battle. While camping, every twig cracking sounded like a death eater sneaking up on them. Every step outside to go forage, or relieve himself, felt like stepping into a trap. 

Hermione and Ron returned, arms with blankets. Hermione folded them neatly over the second couch, perpendicular to the one Harry usually sleeps on. 

Link smiled wearily. “I will rest now, if it isn’t any trouble.”

“Please, do,” Hermione smiled. 

Ron yawned. “Rest sounds good.” A look of panic suddenly shot across his face. “Oh god, George is going to kill me. I’ve been away from work for hours.”

Harry laughed. “He’ll understand.”

“He’s going to get revenge, that’s what he’s going to do. If I find one more fever fudge in my chocolate box, I swear I’m going to kill that man.”

“Ah, you’ll get him back. Why don’t you toss a slime bomb his way?”

“What, and find tarantulas in the cereal box for the rest of my life?”

Link looked on curiously at the exchange. 

“Anyways, I’m off to go plead my case,” Ron said. “It was good to see you guys again. And good to meet you, Link.”

“See you,” Hermione said. Ron paused a moment, before walking over and giving her a brief kiss on the cheek, to everyone’s surprise. He winked, and disapparated. 

“That was awfully bold,” Hermione complained. But she had a smile on her face, as she moved into the kitchen.

Link shifted on the couch to lay down, sword still fastened at his side. He closed his eyes, though his tense posture did not leave him

“Sleep well, Link,” Harry said, moving to follow Hermione. 

“Harry,” he replied. 

“Yeah?”

Their eyes met, and Harry felt that same burning warmth in his chest. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet dreams :D


	4. Beware the Eye of the Yiga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and Harry get to know each other a bit better. Hermione and Ron spend some quality time together ;)
> 
> Short chapter, as the next one is pretty long.

Harry gasped. He was in a large stone cavern, filled with wooden frames and flickering yellow torches. The walls were adorned with thick red fabrics, embroidered with patterns and lettering he did not recognize. In the middle of the room stood a large, fat man in red.

The man started laughing, belly shaking with the effort. It was a maniacal laugh, deep and guttural, whole body moving with the motions. He had a large white mask over his face, with a single red eye painted on it. He appeared to be alone, but there was a feeling of a sinister presence, as if something else, unseen, was lurking in the shadows. 

“Well,” the man wheezed, recovering from the laugh. “Link has been delivered. Finally, after a hundred years of searching for the hero. He will bring the Malice to Earth, as promised, and the ancient prophecy of the Yiga will come to pass.” He broke out into laughter again. He sounded crazed, muttering under his breath. 

A deep roar echoed through the chamber, and the man in red jumped. Wooden chests on the ground started to shake, dust rising up in great wafts. The air in the room started to turn dark, a purpley black smoke billowing outwards. 

The man giggled. “Yeah. You don't miss a thing. Only problem is he survived the fire.”

The roar deepened, and he swatted away of cloud of the smoke as it approached him.  
“No need to worry. I’ve got this under control. You'll be impressed, I promise. All I have to do is send my people through the portal, and they will take out the hero. He has already transported the Malice to Earth, but that won’t do much good until its released. Then, the link between worlds will be established. You can have your new land to wreak havoc over, and such.”

He snapped his finger, and several other red figures with masks appeared in the room. One wielded a huge sickle, and the others had lean bows strung over their backs. The smoke thickened. 

Harry choked, as the black and purple smoke started moving into his lungs. But wasn't this a dream? He started coughing, panicked. He couldn't breathe. A scream start rising in his throat, until-

“Harry?” a voice called out. “Harry, are you there?”

Harry woke with a start, throwing off his blankets. His scar burned, vision still filled with images of the black and purple smoke. Link was wide awake, tense and crouched on the cushions, eyes on Harry. He looked tired, and worried. 

Link tilted his head. “We were having the same dream, it seems."

“You saw the red people, as well?”

He nodded. “That was Master Kohga, of the Yiga Clan. They are the group that captured me. That darkness in the room was a manifestation of the Malice.” He frowned. “So Earth is a different world? You did not tell me.”

Harry nodded, sheepishly. “We were going to tell you. You were in a lot of shock yesterday.”

Link sighed, and rose from the couch. “I have questions I need answered. There are things I don’t understand from the dream. And I cannot stay here, in this world.”

“I’d help if I could. Maybe we could talk to Poppy? She knows a lot about different worlds.”

“Yes, that would be good.”

“I’m glad you’re staying here, at least for a bit, though,” Harry admitted. “I was worried you wouldn’t make it.”

“I owe my life to you. I am in your debt.”

“No way,” Harry laughed. “What was I going to do, let you die?”

“Some would prefer you had.”

Harry squeezed his fists together. Master Kohga had mentioned wanting Link dead. But why?

"Link?"

“Yes?”

“What were they saying about you in the dream? That you’re part of some prophecy?”

“There are a lot of prophecies about me. I can’t be bothered to keep track.”

“I know the feeling, believe me," Harry laughed.

"You do?"

Harry shrugged. “How about some breakfast? I'm starving."

"You are avoiding the question."

"We can talk more after food. I told Hermione I’d learn to cook. Now we’ll see if I’m up to the challenge.”

Link nodded. “I would be grateful for something to eat. May I purchase a meal?”

“Please, no need to offer payment for things like food, and a place to rest. You’ll always be welcome here, as long as you need."

"Much appreciated."

"Speaking of Hermione, where is she? She’s usually up before me.”

They make their way into the kitchen, where a note was taped to the counter, Hermione’s slender handwriting visible from across the room. Harry peered at it. 

***  
At The Burrow. I’ll be back before lunch. There’s fresh fruit in the fridge. Don't forget to eat something.  
Love, Hermione.  
***

“She’s out for the morning,” Harry said, yawning, and opening the fridge. “She left us some fruit.”

He pulled out a bowl of washed berries and thin slices of fruit. It all looked pretty tasty. 

Link tilted his head curiously, reading the note. “The Burrow?”

“Oh, that’s Ron’s place,” Harry snickered. “Looks like she wasn’t so mad at him, after all.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’ve been dating on and off for years now. Everyone knows they’re a thing, but Hermione is too stubborn to admit it. She probably went over to get some good snogging in before she decides they aren’t dating, again.”

To Harry’s amusement, Link blushed pink. “Hermione… and Ron?”

“Snogging, yeah. You know, kissing. Making out.”

His blush deepened. “Forgive me. I thought Hermione was your wife.”

“What?” Harry burst out laughing. “We’re not like that at all. And didn't you see them kiss yesterday?”

"I admit I was confused about that. I thought it might be an unfamiliar custom here."

"No way. Hermione and I live together, but she's just letting me stay here while I figure things out. Hermione and I never... eww."

Link looked away and murmured something under his breath. It was funny to see him out of sorts like this. Since arriving, he had been pretty composed, not letting a lot of emotion slip through, save for exhaustion and determination to go home. But this was… cute?

“May I help prepare the food?” Link asked, regaining his composure. 

“Oh, I was just going to eat the fruit like this. I mean, I know I mentioned cooking, but she left us the fruit already cut up and washed.”

“Do you have sugar? Water? And ginger?”

“I think so,” Harry rummaged through a cupboard. “Oh, never mind. No ginger. We have cinnamon, though. All allspice. 

“Cinnamon will do.”

Harry handed him the cinnamon, sugar, and a cup of water, and watched as he started laying apple and peach slices on the frying pan. He poured a bit of water in, barely enough to cover the bottom of the pan. 

“Do you have a fire?”

Harry laughed, and turned the switch on the burner. Link jumped back in surprise at the sudden flame. After a few minutes on the heat, the fruit started expanding, and the whole room smelled of apple and peach. He started pouring sugar in, and the mixture thickened as he stirred carefully. After a few more minutes on the heat, he sprinkled cinnamon over the pan, and turned to Harry with a nod. 

“Simmered fruit. A personal favourite.” Link announced. 

Harry turned off the burner. “It looks great. That was fast.”

“I’ve always enjoyed cooking. It’s a good way to keep up your health and stamina, if you do it correctly.”

Harry prodded his fork into an apple slice. It tasted amazing. Like jam he could chew. 

“I’m impressed. You used, what, four ingredients?”

“Cooking is a useful skill, like I said.”

“Hermione will be happy to have someone in the house that’s good at cooking,” Harry said. “I’ve been wanting to learn but hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“I would be happy to share my knowledge with you. We could prepare tonight’s food together?”

Harry smiled. “That sounds like fun. Thanks.”

They started tidying up. It was strangely familiar, though they had never done this before. Link was such a curiosity. Harry couldn’t help but wonder about his past. He mentioned prophecies, and capture. Who exactly was Link, and why did Master Kohga send him here? Every detail Link let slip about his past was fascinating. Was he a swordsman? And what did he mean about a quest? If he had some sort of quest he was doing, maybe Harry could help.

An old feeling started to rise in Harry. An urgency, and a thrill. The sense of adventure. He hadn’t felt this for a long time. After the Battle of Hogwarts, he wanted nothing more than to live a quiet life. He still wanted peace, but the idea of leaving Link alone in his quest when Harry might be able to help was appalling. 

“Link, what is Hyrule like?” Harry asked.

Link stiffened, a pained look crossing his features. “Hyrule is very old, and has forgotten many things. Great danger lives in those lands.”

“I’m sorry.”

“But it is beautiful, Harry. You've never lived if your haven't swam waterfalls with the Zora. I have travelled far and long, and Mount Lanayru still fills my mind with beauty, caught in the morning light. Or the great marbled canyons of the Gerudo Highlands. Or the shimmering waters around Eventide Island. I have seen great bears roaming the lands, delicate fairies, and full moons red as scarlet."

"It sounds beautiful."

Link ran his hands through his hair. "Yes, Hyrule is beautiful, Harry. Which is why I will save it. I must. It is my duty, and I do not intend to fail.”

Harry’s breath caught at the look on Link’s face. His eyes were intense, determination itched on every feature.

“I believe you,” Harry said. He caught Link’s gaze, green and blue eyes meeting. That old feeling of adventure and urgency arose again, and Harry couldn't help the words from tumbling out of his mouth. “Let me help you.”

Link looked surprised, but a smile crept over his face. “I see. You are a hero, Harry.”

“What? No, I’m not. I’m not a hero.”

“You dislike the idea of being a hero?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve just been through a lot, I guess.”

“Then why help me?”

“Your whole kingdom is in trouble. And you saw, Hermione and I can use magic. Maybe that’s what could turn the tables. It would be heartless to turn away if I thought I could help.”

“See,” Link smiled. “Hero.”

Harry sighed. It was a flattering comment, but Link didn’t know him. Not really. Heroes don’t let friends die on their behalf. Heroes don’t hide like cowards, for months on end while the world fights for them. 

Link seemed to sense Harry’s hesitation, and turned to the window, gazing out at the streets below. “It was a kind offer, Harry. I do not pretend to know you, but I sense you are a good person. I am usually right about those things.”

"Err... thanks?"

A strange glimmer of red on the back of Link’s neck caught Harry’s attention. It shone dully through the dirty blonde hair. 

“What’s that on your neck, Link?”

“What do you mean?”

Harry approached, and pushed the hair away from Link’s neck. Link flinched at his touch, but allowed him to look. Branded into his skin was a familiar, chilling pattern. A red eye, glowing faintly. To Harry’s horror, it blinked at him.

Link cried out in pain, turning back to Harry. Almost instantly, Harry’s scar started to burn. The lights flickered in the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” Harry asked, backing against the wall, wand drawn. Link drew his sword. 

It was absolutely silent for a moment, both of them holding their breath. 

Suddenly, with a poof of smoke and red notes fluttering through the air, two red figures appeared in the kitchen, donned in white masks with red eyes. The Yiga. 

“I’ll take your life,” one shouted, lunging forward at Link, scythe whistling through the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! Watch out!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! I still remember my first time playing BotW. I could not for the life of me get past the Yiga Hideout stealth mission. I still think they're the scariest badasses in all of Hyrule. Back down Lynels. Err... maybe I'm projecting a bit with this fic?


	5. Her Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our first look at how Link and Harry work together :D  
> Also, oops, HI GINNY

Harry felt the world slow around him. The scythe moved towards Link almost gracefully, as if moving in some twisted, deadly dance. The sound of metal whizzing through air sent shivers down his spine. 

“Petrificus totalus!” He yelled. The spell missed by an inch, absorbed into the white of the back wall. The other Yiga drew his bow, laughing. 

Link met the scythe with his sword, moving blindingly fast. The two sparred like lightning, clangs of metal ringing through the apartment. The muscles in Link's arms tightened with every thrust, legs tensing with each move sideways. His blonde hair bounced around his shoulders as he hopped, weaved, jumped around, meeting each strike from the scythe with a strike of his own. 

Harry jumped as an arrow flew his way. He shot a stunning spell, the Yiga dodging easily. Damn, these guys were fast. He shot a few more spells, but almost as if the Yiga could predict his movements, each was dodged effortlessly. The sounds of Link’s sword meeting the scythe left Harry’s senses on edge. 

“You stand no chance, wizard,” The Yiga laughed, cocking his bow, and hopping out of the path of another spell. “The eye sees all.”

A cry from behind him forced Harry to spin around. Link was limping, a cruel patch of red spreading on his trousers. Unfazed, Link swung with both hands, knocking the scythe right out of the Yiga’s hands. 

“Get it, Harry!” Link yelled, as the Yiga turned to the scythe, which had spun to a stop on the far side of the kitchen. Harry felt time freeze around him. The Yiga were too fast. He could never make it in time. 

“Reducto!” Harry yelled, pointing at the ceiling above the scythe. With a bang, the ceiling collapsed, burying the weapon under clouds of rubble and drywall. The Yiga screeched, desperately trying to dig through the mess.

"HARRY!"

Harry spun, heart pounding. Link stood behind him, sword raised, glaring determined at the Yiga with the bow. He realized the Yiga must have shot. His thoughts were confirmed as he noticed the deflected arrow laying on the ground. Link had deflected the shot with the blade of his sword? That was... incredible. 

Hardly pausing a moment, Link ran to the disarmed Yiga, who was desperately trying to shift the ceiling rubble. Harry turned to the other, the inkling of an idea starting to form. 

The Yiga raised his bow, and Harry dug in his heels, wand raised. He released the arrow, and Harry scrunched up his face, pushing outwards with all his might, a shield charm erupting around him. 

The effect was forceful, spinning the arrow a perfect 180˚ straight back to the astounded Yiga. It hit him hard in the shoulder. Link, breathing heavy, jumped across the kitchen, and lunged his sword straight into the Yiga, a gargled scream slipping out from under the mask. 

Whipping his head, Harry saw the other Yiga was already dead, facedown in the rubble. 

Harry and Link stood silent a moment, taking in the carnage. 

“Shit, the ceiling,” Harry said, looking up at it. The kitchen of the unit above them was visible, fridge toppled and half-fallen down the new hole. The neighbours above were usually at work during the days, but there was no way he could leave it like that. 

"Can we fix it?"

“Hermione’s better at this sort of thing than I am, but I’ll give it a try.”

Harry waved his wand, concentrating on the destroyed unit above him. *Reparo*, he thought, watching as shattered glasses and splintered wood started to piece itself back together. Link stared in shock at the display, eyes widening as the gap in the ceiling sealed, bits of fallen drywall coalescing and returning to their original places. 

“You weren’t kidding about the magic,” Link mumbled. “You surprised me there, in the fight. The shield was a clever move.”

“I was just trying to hit them. They’re so fast. I can’t believe you got so many hits on them. You really know how to use that sword.”

“For the most part,” Link said, hand reflexively moving to his leg, where blood had soaked through from the scythe slash. 

“Shit, let’s get that cleaned up,” Harry said. “Hermione will be able to help more when she gets back.”

Link rolled up his pant leg, revealing a deep, but clean cut across his thigh. It looked painful, but Link kept his expression calm, the look of someone who had been wounded many times in battle. Trying not to grimace at the sight, Harry jogged to the bathroom cupboard, sorting through it for bandaids, or a wrap, anything to help clean it up. A little array of bottles caught his eye, one bottle with a familiar brown colour and dropper cap. Picking it up, he recognized it as Dittany, the medical potion Hermione had used to help Ron after he was splinched. Perfect.

He took it back to Link and squeezed a few drops over the wound. With a hiss, the wound closed, as swiftly and cleanly as the ceiling had, only moment before. 

“Whoah,” Link breathed, amazement in his voice. “Thank you.”

“It’s nothing,” Harry said. “You really saved me with those Yiga. That arrow would have hit me for sure.”

“Never turn your head on an enemy. Especially if they are armed.”

Harry caught his gaze for a moment. It marveled him how unfazed Link was by all of this. If anything, he only looked amazed at the displays of magic. There was no fear on his face, no panic at the recent attempt on his life. Harry wondered, not for the first time, what Link had gone through back in Hyrule. 

A loud pop sent both their heads upwards. Hermione was home. Her hair was a little messier than usual, a happy, faraway look on her face. 

“I’m back,” Hermione announced, unnecessarily. She frowned. “The Dittany is out.”

Suddenly, her eyes drifted to the two Yiga, still laying, lifeless in the kitchen. She screamed, arm lifting to her mouth to muffle the noise. 

“They're Yiga," Link explained. "Members of an ancient race. They are here for me.”

Harry reflexively put his hand on Link’s leg. 

“Hermione, Harry,” he said. “Your hospitality has been appreciated, but I put you both in danger as long as I’m here. The Yiga have branded me with their eye, and will follow wherever I go. They will stop at nothing until I am dead.”

Harry tensed up. Link couldn’t go. Not after everything they’d talked about this morning. 

“What do you mean, they branded you?” Hermione asked. 

Link turned to show her the eye blinking on the back of his neck. 

“How does it work?” she asked. 

“It sees where I am. I’m familiar with this particular Yiga trick. I should have known they wouldn’t risk losing me here.”

“But how does it work, exactly? It’s a tracker?”

“ A sensory organ. It smells, sees, hears, tastes the environment around it. As soon as it knows enough, it calls. And when it calls, they come.” Link had a dark look on his face. “Beware the eye of the Yiga,” he muttered. 

“Okay. Let me help,” Hermione said promptly. 

"More magic?" Link asked. 

She raised her wand, jets of various coloured light emitting from her wand. Eventually, a dark cloud settled over the eye on his neck. “There are a few spells there. A blinding charm, muffliato, taste blocker, and scent stifler. The eye is as good as blind, Link.”

Link beamed at her, running his hands through his hair. “Magic is wonderful. How long will this last?”

“Indefinitely.”

“Brilliant, Hermione,” Harry said. “But we still can’t stay here. They know about this place.”

Link nodded. “They will send reinforcements soon. Please, leave me somewhere. Anywhere. I will find my way from there. I've been in worse situations before.”

“No, Link, we’ll come with you,” Harry said. Hermione gave Harry a surprised look, but nodded her agreement. 

“There's no need to run off now. We can find somewhere to stay. The Burrow is safe,” she said. “The Weasley’s are always welcoming of guests.”

"I'm very grateful."

“The Burrow is a great idea," Harry said. "Okay. Grab you stuff, and then we’ll go. Hurry."

Harry and Hermione quickly grabbed some clothes and basic toiletries, Hermione tucking them inside her beaded bag. 

“Let’s go,” she said, grabbing both of their hands. In a brief flash, the apartment disappeared, and in front of them appeared the lovely, crooked sight of The Burrow. 

It had been ages since Harry had been here. Him and Ginny used to visit all the time when they were together. Harry wondered briefly if she had moved back home, or still lived in that little cottage they used to share. They walked up the path to the front door. Harry noticed the little shed around the side had a door open, the nose of an old car poking out. Perhaps Mr. Weasley had found a new Muggle car to play with?

Hermione knocked on the door. It wasn’t long before the sound of a bolt clicked, and the door swung open. 

“Hermione, my dear. Back again, I see. Ron has just left for work, I'm afraid, but you're welcome to join me for some early lunch,” Mrs. Weasley said. She beamed at Harry. “And Harry, so good to see you. It has been far too long.” She pulled them both into tight hugs. She looked well, happy and vibrant. 

“And who’s this?” she asked, smiling warmly at Link. Her eyes looked him over, taking in the strange attire and sheathed sword. 

“Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione started. “This is Link. Harry and I recently met him, and he's in a tough situation right now. I know this is all so sudden, but we need a place to stay. Link has certain enemies that know where our apartment is. Harry and Link had to fend them off this morning.”

Her smile faded, and she nodded. “Come in. Of course you are welcome.” She locked the door behind them. “How serious is this? Do we need a Fidelius charm, Hermione?”

“That would be a good idea. I’m so sorry to put you in this situation.”

“It’s quite all right. We could never turn you two away, or your friend. Arthur will be home soon. Then perhaps we can all talk about all this. I'm sure he will want details.” She paused for a moment to smile at Harry. “Goodness, Harry it’s been too long. It’s good to see you again, even if it is under such circumstances.” 

“I should have visited more. I was just...”

“I know. You’ll always be welcome here, Harry,” she smiled knowingly. “No matter how many of my children you date.”

Hermione laughed, and prodded Harry with her elbow. “Hang on a second. I thought it was just Ginny, Harry? You and Charlie been chatting it up lately?”

“I wish. Unfortunately, Charlie is a little out of my league.”

“Yeah, he works with dragons. Can’t get much cooler than that.”

Link watched the exchange with curiosity, a slight blush creeping up his face.

“Harry,” a voice came from the hallway. "Harry Goddamn Potter." It was a voice like roses. Altogether sweet and painful. 

She was as beautiful as ever. Hair like fire flowed over both shoulders, and her posture was deceptively relaxed, hiding a great amount of strength. But that expression that he loved… that flame in her eyes… was gone. Where he used to see attitude, and playfulness, was only shock and hurt. 

Harry opened his mouth. He needed to say something. But what? That he’s sorry? That he hoped she was well? She clearly wasn’t well.   
He closed his mouth.

“Fuck you,” she hissed, before disappearing in a swirl of red hair, up the stairs. 

“Ginny, wait-” Mrs. Weasley started. She turned to look at Harry, clearly upset. 

“I’m so sorry,” Harry said.

“I know,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “But you two need to talk.”

Hermione nodded. “But maybe wait until she’s calmed down a bit. You know how Ginny can get.”

Harry smiled weakly. "Yeah, I'm all too familiar."

"Only a brave man would mess with her."

"Or a dumb one. You remember that time she cursed Zacharias Smith with the bat bogey hex in 6th year? He really should have shut up when she told him to shut up.”

“And didn’t she purposefully crash her broomstick into the commentator booth when he dropped some derogatory comments about her in Quidditch?”

“What a badass,” Harry smiled, before turning away with a sigh. 

“It’ll get better, my dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, arm on his shoulder. “Now why don’t you three make your way upstairs and get settled. Harry, you can share with Ron. Hermione, with Ginny, if you don’t mind. Perhaps we can give Link Bill’s old room.”

Link nodded. “I appreciate everything.”

“Yeah, thanks, Mrs Weasley,” Harry said. “I’ll show you the room, Link.”

After the rush of settling in and showing Link around the house, Harry stood alone in Ron’s room, having left Link alone to take a shower. He looked down at the garden below. Amusingly, he saw a small gnome drinking out of the bird bath. He wondered if he should say something to Mrs. Weasley about it. 

Harry sighed. Seeing Ginny had been harder than he thought it would be. It had been months since they’d parted, but she still looked so… crushed. 

His mind went back to that day. He had told her in the evening, when it was quiet, as soon as the leftovers from dinner had been tucked into the fridge and the dishes washed. She had made vegetable soup. He still tasted it in his mouth when he thought of that night. It had been brutally spicy, but delicious nonetheless. Ginny had always been fond of putting a surprise in her dishes, some kind of twist, whether a sour icing to the cake, or kick of cayenne in the soup. 

He had fumbled over his words when he told her, excuse after excuse coming out. But she didn’t want to hear excuses. She just wanted him gone. And in a moment, what he had envisioned as sad parting had turned into him facedown in the mud, the stings of hexes up his body, Ginny screaming in the distance. He had apparated straight to Hermione, who took care of the hexes. She fixed his knees, which had been reversed, and loosened his tongue, which had been glued to the top of his mouth. The knee reversal hex had been painful, but he didn’t blame Ginny. Harry had been tactless with the whole thing, stepping hard on her feelings with little warning. It wasn’t the right moment. She wasn’t ready to hear him say that he didn't love her. 

A knock on the door made him jump. “Come in?”

“Harry.” It was Hermione, holding a plate with a sandwich. “This is from Mrs. Weasley.”

“Thanks.”

“You really should go down and talk with Mrs. Weasley. You know it’s hard for her. She loves you, but Ginny is her daughter. It’s not easy for her to host us here.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed. “I feel awful about imposing like this. But we didn’t have much choice. It's an emergency. Where else? Poppy’s? Her house wasn’t big enough for three guests.”

“Grimmauld place,” Hermione joked. “It would be just like the old days.”

“Oh, don’t remind me,” Harry smiled. “I was hoping to go the rest of my life without hearing Mrs. Black again.”

Hermione's voice softened. “You know, it doesn’t have to be all of us here, Harry."

“He needs help, Hermione,” Harry said. “Even if he won't admit it. This Yiga threat is a lot bigger than he’s been letting on. I want to help him. And I have some ideas. If only we can figure out a way to get him home, we could get into the Yiga hideout and take out Kohga, the guy behind all this. I mean, there’s still a much bigger threat to worry about, this beast called Ganon, but that would be a pretty major step in defeating him.”

Hermione smiled. “I thought you were done with the 'hero stuff,' Harry?”

“I wish you would all stop using that word,” Harry mumbled. 

“Just teasing,” Hermione said. “But really, it’s good to see you back, Harry. I haven’t seen that look on your face in a long time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I'm having a blast writing this, and it's encouraging to see people enjoying it.   
> Stay safe out there, kiddos <3


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